Cotton Candy
by Persephonita
Summary: This fantasizing felt like a den, a sweet cotton-candy alternative reality where Sam could dive in whenever she wanted to. And God knows how often she would dive in. The Seddie-Arc never happened
1. Freud

**Chapter 1 : Freud**

_Friday, March 9th; 00h30 A.M._

Sam Puckett was lying in her bed. She had been thinking about her life for half an hour; and her thinking led her to one conclusion: _Her life sucked._

Sam was born on 23th, May and she was 16 ¾, mind you. Sam's mom, Pamela Puckett, gave birth to her when she was 22; she was pretty young. Sam knew nothing about her father, except that he left her mom when she was pregnant with her. Pamela never got over this, and since the day Sam's father went away, she was depressed, worst, she was… _empty_. Her body was functional, but a part of her died the day he left her: you could see that every time she smiled, it didn't reach her eyes; you could see that every time she spoke, she was holding back tears; you could see that every time she looked at something, her mind wasn't here. Sam tried to know more about her father, like his name, but Pamela refused to talk about him; so Sam dropped off the subject.

Live with a seriously depressed mother was… well, it was…

It was almost never seeing her because she tried to drown her feelings into work; it was hearing her wake up at 3:00 AM and cry for at least 2 hours every night, it was learning at a very young age to go grocery shopping, to do laundry, to clean the house, to make breakfast, lunch and dinner because your mom was either not here or too messed-up to do it.

Thankfully, she met Carly Shay in sixth grade. Sam would always remember this day as the beginning of the rest of her –young- life.

She met Carly on their very first day of middle school. It was during lunch time. Sam was eating bacon alone at her table. Carly asked her if she could sit with her. Sam reluctantly agreed. The brunette asked the blonde girl if she wanted Fat Cakes. The rest was history.

She also met Freddie this day. He asked Sam and Carly if he could have lunch with her; he was obviously head over heels for Carly. Carly agreed, Sam said "Whatever". Freddie smiled at Carly and grimaced to Sam.

Sam never told her friends about her mother. Although they guessed that something was bothering her, they learned fast to not question Sam when she didn't want to answer. Having friends made Sam…happy. Yes, she was happy. She was always at the Shay's. She loved that place. It felt like _home. _Everybody feared, and still fears Sam, but Carly, Spencer and Freddie were the only ones to know that behind the armored shell was a scared little girl who just wanted affection.

But in eight grade Sam fugued twice. Nobody ever knew why, except herself and her mom. Her friends learned afterwards she went to the hospital after each fugue.

After these fugues, everything went back to normal, until freshman year. Sam experienced something quite common for girls her age : she was crushing on someone. She already has dated a few boys, but nothing serious. Plus, she had a crush on _Freddie_. Yep, you read right, she was crushing on one of her best friend whom she had been torturing for years who was madly in love with her other best friend. Yep, Fredward Benson; the nerdy-nerd goody two-shoes tech guy. _Freddie_.

As the years flew by in her head, she refused to think about last year; her sophomore year. She wasn't ready yet, it would bring back too much painful memories. She looked at her phone to check the time. It was 00:50. She put her phone in her night stand and herself under the blanket and soon fell asleep.

* * *

_Saturday, March 10th; 2 P.M_

Sam was in her house's attic. Her philosophy's teacher asked them to do a little research on Sigmund Freud, the "Father of Psychoanalysis". Her mom was a psychologist,and she knew the attic was full of… "psycho-lo…-gical" stuff, so she figured she would find something about Freud in it.

The attic was –curiously- the cleanest room of the house. In fact, it didn't even look like an attic at all; it looked more like a cozy little library.

It was a large room. There were two big comfy armchairs on the left, with each a bedside lamp on its side. Pam loved to go up there and hide. The rest of the room was filled up with eleven tall shelvesin three lines. The twelfth piece of furniture was actually a closet, a very little one, it looked more like a safe actually. Pam had meticulously put her psychological books on these shelves. Yes, eleven tall shelves full of psychological books.

Sam sighed. She didn't like to come here. It reminded her too much on how her mother was drowning herself into work. But she began to search any Freud related book she could find.

She didn't get up here very often, but she knew the closet always had been closed, and locked. She remembered it because the last time she went there, she asked her mom what was in it, and Pam yelled at her that it was none of her business before taking Sam by the arm and almost throwing her in the stairs. Sam was 9.

And today, that closetwas surprisingly open. Not wide open... Just enough to be tempting…

* * *

_Saturday, March 10th; 2.10 P.M_

O

Of course she had opened it. She discovered that the twelfth piece of furniture was filled with…books. Numbered books. But they were books. Sam got closer and picked the first one. The book was actually quite small, the cover was in leather, it felt smooth, like the book Pam gave to Sam when she was 10. Like the book Sam had hidden under her mattress. Then Sam understood. It wasn't just a book. It was a diary. This twelfth piece of furniture, the safe was filled with diaries. Her mom's diaries.

Sam was reluctant to open it. Yes, Sam spent the most of her time acting rude and enjoyed breaking the rules (How do you think she went in juvie ?). Sam rummaged through Carly's stuff all the time. She found her diary but never opened it. Sam had herself a diary, and although it was after all just sheets of paper, her diary seemed like the only thing she could freely "talk" to.

But then Sam thought again about her life. How her life sucked, how she had to live with a fucked up –come on, let's call a platypus a platypus- mother. She threw her guilt in the back of her brains and took diaries number 1, 2 and 3, the books about Freud she spotted and came back to her room.

She hid the diaries under her mattress, next to her diary. She surprisingly didn't want to read them right now. Well, to be honest, she really wanted to read them right now, but she had a paper to finish. She sighed heavily and collapsed on her desk chair.

_Saturday, March 10th; 3.40 P.M_

Sam had finally finished her paper. Throughout her work, she couldn't stop thinking about the diaries. She made her way to her bed and grabbed the first one. She then lied on her bed, and began to read.

**Pamela Anne Puckett's Diary**

**Tuesday, September, 3rd, 1991.**

Hello. I am Pamela Anne Puckett. I am now 18 (and a little less than a month). I am studying psychology in Seattle.

One of our professors told us starting a diary will help us sorting the problems we could face in our lives. I do not know if that is true, but I will try anyway.

OK, I am going to be honest with you, I am doing this mostly because I have always wanted a diary but never had one. I do not know why, it sounds like something weak and lonely people do. Well, I am a little lonely but I am definitely not weak.

I should probably name you ? Or is it too creepy ? I have got to go.

Goodbye D Ma Diary.

**Wednesday, September 4th 1991.**

**.**

**Thursday, September 5th 1991.**

Hi Hello

**Thursday, October, 3rd 1991.**

Hello Diary.

It has been a while since I have written in there. Nothing out of the ordinary happened to me in a month. Oh, well, I made myself two friends, Meryl and Edward. They are majoring in psychology too. They made me discover this little café called the Funky Coffee. I have never been to a café with friends before. Well, I have never been to a café before. But I like this place. Many students of the campus go here, and I have been socializing with other people.

This is all I got for you today.

Goodbye Diary.

Sam had read through two diaries, and as the days went by, Pam started to confess more every time she wrote. No deep dark secrets but details about her days, about how her friendship with Meryl and Edward made her happy, about how Edward wanted to ask Meryl out but how he shied away. She described how she would go to the Funky Coffee almost every day with her friends. She related her dates with a guy named Matthew. She apparently met him at the Funky Coffee. Sam was surprised. Pamela Puckett dating someone was kind of a weird concept for her.

She hid the first two diaries under her mattress and grabbed the third one. Pam had written the first input the 3rd September of 1993, exactly two years after she started her first diary. The teenage girl was about to read when her phone rang. She took it from her night stand and saw that Carly had texted her.

**_From: Carly_**

Girly Cow marathon + Sleepover ? :)

Sam chuckled and looked at her alarm clock. It was already 6.00 P.M. Wow, time flies when you read your mother's diaries. She chased away the guilt that was beginning to overcome her and typed her reply to Carly.

**_To: Carly_**

Of course. I'll be there in 15 minutes :)

She carefully hid the diaries she was reading with the other ones and began to pack her things. Before leaving, she quickly wrote a note for her mother.

Hello Mom,

I'm at Carly's for a sleepover.

Sam.

She didn't actually know why she left that note because : first, she was always at Carly's for sleepovers during the week-end; second, her mother will probably never see that note because she was rarely home ( and when she was, Sam almost never saw her). Plus, she didn't really seem to care about where Sam was, or what she was doing, as long as she didn't get the cops involved. One of the few times Sam saw her mom showing emotions (OK, anger) was when Sam had to go to juvie. And she wasn't angry about the fact that Sam had to go to juvie, but angry about the fact that Sam had brought cops home.

Sam grabbed her bag, her keys and left after locking the front door.

* * *

Let me know what you think !


	2. Samantha

Even though I had no feedbacks on the first chapter, I am still posting this one. Enjoy !

* * *

**Chapter 2 : Samantha.**

As usual, Sam really enjoyed the ten minutes' walk to Carly's. It left her time to think about who will be there.

_Fredward Benson. _

Sam realized in freshman year she was crushing on Freddie. Well, to be honest, she already knew for a long time she was crushing on him (hence the constant fighting and pranking); but it hit her that year, because that was the year Carly Shay and Fredward Benson started dating.

Yes, you read right, they have been dating. For two years.

_And it was killing Sam. _

They really kept the PDA's low though, whenever they weren't alone; but Sam could still see the discrete touching, the enamored glances and the sweet smiles.

_And it was killing Sam._

Because she had been crushing on the tech boy for nearly six years (Come on, nearly six years ! It's like half a century in dog's years, isn't it ?!); she witnessed the hurt expression on his face every time Carly had a new boyfriend; but Sam was even more hurt than that because she knew Freddie never saw her like a potential girlfriend.

_And it was killing Sam._

Because suddenly Carly woke up and saw there was an amazing guy head over heels for her. In a snap of her fingers, they were dating.

_And it was killing Sam._

She had reached her destination. She was in front of Carly's door.

_Remember Samantha, look happy._

She took a deep breath, knocked and entered.

* * *

- Hello Carlotta ! happily sang Sam.

- Hello Samantha ! replied like-wise Carly. What got your panties in such a great mood ?

- Bacon of course !

Both of them laughed. Sam reached the refrigerator, took the sacrosanct bacon and began to cook it. Meanwhile, her best friend was setting various beverages and items of junk food on the table in front of the TV.

That's when Fredward Benson, also known as Freddie, or Carly's boyfriend, or Sam's crush, or Marisa's son, or… nevermind, you got the point. Freddie came in.

_Breathe Samantha. Keep cool. _

- Hello again Carly-fornia GurlFriend ! cheerfully greeted the tech boy before kissing the brune girl.

_Don't puke Samantha. _

- Hello Sam !

_What are you doing ? she rhetorically asked before letting out a very movie-like giggle._

_Freddie had her pressed against the door, kissing every skin her neck could display. Sam's hormones were dancing salsa and spitting lava. _

_Freddie, we're gonna be late to…_

_I don't care. _Nibble. _You don't care. _Kiss. _We don't care. _Kiss on her lips.

_I guess you're right, managed to whisper Samantha during the rare et very short moments Freddie's lips weren't on her own._

- Hi Fredducinni !

He sighed.

- So… Everyone ready for this Girly Cow Marathon ? he rhetorically asked.

- My bacon is cooked, I'm all set !

- I have my special lemonade, we can start !

Sam and Freddie lightly winced

- Let's go then ! smiled the teenage boy.

He sat down and Carly immediately snuggled up to his side, leaving Sam third wheeling the event with her bacon. Freddie started the DVD and sweetly kissed his girlfriend's head. They were a happy couple.

_And it was freaking killing Sam._

* * *

_11.00 P.M. I don't think I could handle spending the night here. It's a decent time to leave_

The blonde girl faked the biggest yawn she could.

- Well, I'm tired, I better get going…

- I thought you were staying here tonight.

- Yeah, but hmm... I don't remember if I locked the door when I left so… I'm gonna check…

- Oh ! I understand… Well, good night Sam.

- 'Night Carly. Yo Freddinstein.

With that, she quickly grabbed her stuff and exited. Once in the hallway, she leaned her back again the wall and deeply breathed.

_I don't remember if I locked the door ?! Lamest excuse ever Samantha._

- Come on sweetie, calm down…

- Never tell a girl to calm down Fredward Benson ! Because I'm even more worked up than I was before !

Those were the muffled voices of Carly and Freddie. Sam froze. Why was her friend angry ?

- Most of the guys have to get married to suffer that kind of abuse…

An awkward silence took place.

- I'm sorry honey.

Carly sighed.

- I just want to know what's her problem ! My best friend obviously has a problem and she doesn't even talk to me about it !

- You know Sam likes to figure out her problem by herself. She'll eventually talk to you about it, don't worry.

- Don't "Don't worry" me Fredward Benson !

It was Freddie's turn to sigh.

Sam had heard enough. She decided to leave for good and exited the building.

The fresh air was calming the blonde teenage girl. She was analyzing what she'd heard while slowly walking to her house.

_Well done Samantha ! Now the Happy Couple knows you have a problem. And knowing Carly, it's a matter of time before she brings the subject up. She apparently noticed it a long time ago. What are you going to tell her ? I'm crushing on your boyfriend since the day I met him ? My goldfish is dead and I can't get over it ? […] You don't even have a goldfish Samantha, think a little !_

She felt trapped. How will she explain her change of attitude ? She chose not to think about it right now and quickly finished her journey home.

* * *

_Saturday, March, 10__th__, 11.45 P.M._

Sam's house was quiet. Like most of the time.

She slowly reached her bedroom, kicked her shoes off and tossed her bag on her desk after grabbing the pajamas that were in it then changed. She grabbed the only diary she hasn't read yet, lied comfily in her bed and continued her reading.

**Friday, September, 3****rd**** 1993.**

Hello Diary !

Fall is already here. I really enjoyed my holidays; I spent time with Meryl and Edward and got to meet other people. I even got invited to parties. I will confess; this has been the best summer I have ever had so far. But this does not mean I am sad fall is here. Most of the people I met are on the campus and we promised to keep in touch. Our cognitive psychology teacher retired. The new one is named Raymond Jacobs and he seems to be in his late twenties. We still have not had a lecture with him but he seems like a decent professor. And I have to admit, he is good looking.

_Godforsaken pumpernickel of all the cherry cupcakes. Did my mother just said (wrote) that she was actually attracted by one of her teacher ? Wow…_

Well Diary, I have got to go,

Goodbye.

**Monday, September 6****th**** 1993.**

Meryl and Edward are growing closer and closer. They have been flirting with each other for a year and I know Meryl is just waiting for Edward to make the first step and properly ask her on a date, but he has not dared yet. But the way they act around each other is very cute though.

We had our first lecture with Mr. Jacobs today. I find him much better than the old teacher. He seems genuinely interested in his subject and makes the lecture as interactive as he can. And the fact that he is good looking is a plus. I would even say he is… _hot_.

_On behalf of all the grey baboons of Bangladesh, did my mom just used the word "__**hot**__" ?_

I have work Diary,

See you soon.

Sam heard someone unlocking the front door. Her mom was –finally- coming home. She always had pleaded night shifts, but Sam understood a while ago that psychologists didn't do night shifts. She never asked her mom how she spent her nights. And it was probably for the best.

The teenager turned off the light until she didn't hear anything; which meant her mom was now in her room and wouldn't bother her. To be honest Sam's mom rarely bothered her child, I think you understood Pamela Puckett wasn't a sticky mom. But Sam didn't want to take risks; she didn't want her mother to see she had violated her intimacy in reading her diaries.

She turned the lights on again and continued her journey through her mother's mind. Sam read the whole diary that night, in which Pam described how Edward –finally- asked Meryl out; how her passion for anthropology –OK, for the anthropology teacher- grew bigger every class; how she "nailed" her exams etc. Apparently, life was good for Pam.

It was already 1:00 A.M, and Sam was tired.

* * *

_Sunday, March, 11__th__ 9.01 A.M_

Sam woke up and then did everything she had to do to clean the night out of her. She went to the kitchen to make breakfast; she was cooking bacon (When wasn't she eating bacon ?) when her mom entered the kitchen.

- Hello Samantha.

I believe you never met in person Pamela Puckett. If you had, you would know her voice was one of the strangest sounds in the world. When Pamela Puckett talked, it sounded like she was whispering, yet her voice was loud as a yell. Her voice was deep, raucous, like she was constantly waking up, however every word she spoke sounded like a complain, it was filled with despair. Her voice had something inhuman, and when she spoke, it infiltrated your being. When she stopped, it left a strange feeling of fear and sadness. Hearing Pamela Puckett talk was an event in itself, even if she asked you what time it was.

- Hello Mom. Do you want bacon ?

- I'll have an apple, thank you.

With that, she took the fruit and disappeared in her room.

This is how almost every conversation between Sam and her mother was like. Sam would always ask her something she already knew, and her mom would answer and then disappear in her room.

* * *

_Sunday, March, 11__th__ 10.05 A.M._

Sam was currently in the attic. She had finished the diaries she took (OK, stole) and wanted the next ones. The closetwas now locked again. Did her mom noticed three books were missing ? She didn't bother to think about it and picked the lock. Come on, we all know Samantha Puckett can pick all the locks she wants. After opening this twelfth piece of furniture, she replaced the diaries she already read and took the next three. She re-locked the closet (I don't really think you want to know how, you may finish in jail for complicity and non-assistance to closet in danger). Then she simply left.

She had the day to herself : it was Sunday, her homework was done, Carly used to hang out with Freddie and her mom was either working, not here, or crying the Puckett out of her. To sum up : she could read until her eyes dropped out her orbits. And that's exactly what she did.

**Thursday, January 6****th**** 1994**

Hello Diary. Excuse me for the lack of updates, but with work, my class examination, Christmas and New Year's Eve, I did not have a lot of time. I celebrated Christmas with my parents and I got a sweater. I celebrated New Year's Eve with my friends and had fun.

Anyway Diary, something quite strange happened today. After the cognitive psychology lecture I went to Mr. Jacobs's desk to ask some questions.

And enjoying his features too, I have to admit. This wasn't the first time I had done it but today I tried t to be f flirty.

Key word : _tried_. My flirty attitude is just me being ten times more awkward than I usually am. I could see he had difficulties holding his laugh and realized I was making a fool of myself. I thanked him nonetheless for the time he had spared for me and said goodbye. That is when he casually winked at me.

He _winked _ at me, Diary.


	3. Epicure

**Here's the third chapter ! I know, thanks to the traffic stats, that people read my story, but I'd like to know what you think of it. Don't hesitate to review, it motivates me ! **

* * *

**Chapter 3 : Epicure.**

_Sunday, March, 11__th__, 1.30 P.M._

Sam had spent all night reading diaries; she decided to take a nap. And she knew what would happen if she lied in her bed and closed her eyes. She would dream about a certain someone.

Tinky Winky from the Teletubbies.

Kidding.

_Fredward Benson._

Well, she wouldn't be exactly dreaming about him, because dreaming it's unconscious; you don't decide what you'll be dreaming (at least, Sam wasn't able to do that).

The right word would have been _fantasizing. _Because most of the time, when Sam was lost in her thoughts, lying in her bed waiting for Morpheus to come, or bored by her European history teacher, or…, well you got the point, she was fantasizing about Freddie. She imagined herself replacing Carly in his heart and becoming his girlfriend. She pictured lazy Sunday cuddles in a king sized bed, white sheets and no morning breath. She let her mind invent hot, mind-blowing, "moaningful "make out sessions with him; his kisses were feathers, his touch silk, his scent ambrosia.

Since Carly and Freddie officially became Creddie, those were one of the rare moments Sam felt happy. This fantasizing felt like a den, a sweet cotton-candy alternative reality where Sam could dive in whenever she wanted to. And God knows how often she would dive in.

* * *

_Samantha was currently lying, eyes closed, in nothing but her underwear, in a king sized bed with white sheets, in what seemed like a really fancy hotel room. The sunrise was spreading its warm rays through the semi-closed shutters._

_She heard the sheets crumple and felt an arm encircling her waist from behind._

_- Hello Samantha._

_Those two whispered words made her smile, like the voice she heard. That deep, morning-raucous voice…_

_Samantha smiled, although her eyes were still closed. The owner of the voice –Tinky Winky- (I'm sorry, can't help it) began to place kisses on her left shoulders._

_- Slept well ? _

_Come on, how could a voice be like… that ?!_

_Samantha's smile grew bigger, and the kisses made their way up to her neck._

_Samantha, hummed the owner of the voice_

_She finally gave up and turned around to face him. She had opened her eyes and her smile turned into a smirk._

_- Fredward, she mimicked._

_He smiled and buried his face into her chest, his left arm stroking her back, her right hand stroking his hair._

_They stayed like that for five minutes. Then Samantha felt and Freddie smirks into her breasts and kisses. _

_- My lips are feeling deprived, she teased._

_The teenage boy immediately stopped his delicious ministrations to her chest to fulfill his lover's desire._

_Samantha couldn't help but smile into the kiss. Freddie ended up gently bitting her lower lip and lowering his head taste her neck._

_- I can't kiss you if you smile._

_She chuckled._

_- You're making me happy, she shyly whispered._

_- And the cheesy award goes to…_

_- Come on, I'm Samantha; I'm cheesier than cheddar._

_- Bzz… bzz… bzz_

_Freddie had opened his mouth to talk, but all Samantha could hear was a buzz. The softness, the warmth of Freddie's skin against hers disappeared to be replaced b_y the scratchy feeling of her blanket. The heat of the sunshine rays morphed into a CO2-satured atmosphere with hints of sweat.

Sam had woken up from her nap and as planned, she had fantasized about Freddie. Letting herself drown into the sweetness of that dream world felt amazing. It was even beyond amazing. But the come back into reality felt like an icy shower, like a skyscraper fall into the deep dark ocean of her sorrow.

Her wake up led her to a conclusion : _Her life sucked._

* * *

_Sunday, March 11__th__, 2012, 3.00 P.M._

What interrupted her nap was in fact her phone vibrating; she had received a text from Carly.

_**From : Carly**_

Hello Bacon Girl ! How sounds a little girl get together at my place ?

_A little girl get together ? _Rather a "Let's-draw-Sam-into-my-appartment-to-get-her-to-spill-the-beans-about-her-recent-moodswings" kind of meeting.

Sam decided she didn't want to face her friend today. She turned her phone off and pretended she never saw that text.

Her brutal wake up had make her seen the extent of her despair and had brought unpleasant memories of the last time she had been feeling this way. She chose to be someone else for the rest of the day and immerse herself in her mother's mind.

* * *

**Thursday, January 27****th**** 1994**

I had stopped pretending to have questions to go see Mr. Jacobs after his lectures and only went to him if I had _serious _ questions, which had happened only a couple of time. And every time I did so he would wink at me, even though I had his message loud and clear that my flirting skills were disastrous and had stopped any type of non-school related comportment toward him.

But this didn't make him less good-loo _hot. _ That's what while he was answering me today; I couldn't help but stare at him, thing he immediately noticed. But he didn't laugh this time (or tried to hide it) but gave me a warm smile. I was expecting him to say everything, a polite but firm speech about how my attitude toward him was incorrect. A polite but firm speech while trying to contain is laugher about how my staring boosted his ego but nothing could never happened between the two of us. I sincerely didn't expect him to say :

- _What about a coffee ?_

I think my dumbfounded face spoke for itself. He chuckled.

_- What would you say if I asked you out for a coffee ?_

Yes Pamela, what would say ? The responsible thing to do was refusing it, right ? Well, College Pamela (or Pam, as everyone now called me) took over and accepted.

_- I would say yes._

Then meet me next Saturday at the _Norma Jean_ at 4.00 P.M. It's a date.

And he just left.

Diary, just so there isn't any kind of confusion, I had been asked on a date for the very first time of my life. And the very first boy man who did it was my cognitive psychology teacher.

* * *

**Saturday, January 29****th**** 1994**

I'm in the Twilight Zone Diary. I must be in the Twilight Zone. Me, Pamela Anne Puckett, also known as Pam, had been asked out by Mr. Jacobs and had been going on a date. Today.

I was as nervous as a baby ostrich lost in the Pacific Ocean. First because I realized I had a crush on Mr. Jacobs. Second of all because he had asked me out.

Did he ask me out because he li has. he is in.

Did he ask me out because he kind of… like me ? Or because he wants to tell me to stop my stupid little comedy in front of him ? God, he must think I'm some kind of depraved girl. But he wouldn't have winked at me for so long right ? Or was it a way to trap me ?

This is what I kept meditating while walking to the café. Needless to say I was a bundle of nerves when I arrived to my destination.

The Norma Jean is a café I don't frequent even though I've heard of it. Simply because practically all the campus reunited at the Funky Coffee. But I really should though. Passing by the entrance of this place is like going back to the 50's.

Several portraits of 50's actors and singers decorated the rectangular room : Audrey Hepburn, James Dean and of course Marylin Monroe (hence the name of the café)

The counter was located in the background. Circular tables were scattered all over the place. More comfortable seats were situated against the walls, except in the left corner –where a jukebox was playing Oops by Louis Armstrong and Ella Fiztgerald- and in a little space in the right wall where was a door –which probably led to the toilets-. There were a lot of people, but the room wasn't crowded, it still seemed…let's say intimate.

This place made me forgot my nervousness the time I discovered its anachronicness (I really should stop with my neologisms).But then I spotted him. My feet automatically guided me towards him, but my mind seemed like it took a vacation to Bangladesh. I don't even know how I managed to tell him hello when I arrived at his table.

- _Hello_, he replied, smiling. _How are you ?_

- _I'm- I'm fine_, I stuttered (and probably spit) while sitting.

- _Do you want something to drink ? My treat._

-_ I'm good, thank you._

I was trying to take off my jacket while staring at him, my mind still in this Bangladesh fog. I was looking like a spider caught in its own web.

Very lady like Pam.

-_ Are you sure ? Their hot chocolate is exquisite._

Since our table was cup free, I deduced he already went here.

Who with ?

OK, focus Pam, he asked you something, answer.

_- Well, hot chocolate it is !_

He hailed a waitress who was busy at the bar :

_- Two hot chocolate please !_

_- Coming right away !_ she announced with a big dimpled smile.

_- So…Pamela, what type of music are you into ?_

I looked at him, aghast, eyes and mouth wide open. He was acting like we were two old friends catching up on their lives after a long time no see.

_- You want to know what type of music I like ?_

- _Indeed_, he whispered, amusement evident in his tone and eyes. _From what I saw of you, you seem like a mature and serious 20 years old young lady very interested in cognitive psychology._

I could have sworn he _winked_ at me. Again. Or maybe he just had OCDs…

- _You also seem very nice, so why not learning to know each other better ?_

- _Su-sure._

To my defense, my mind was just processing the thought of coming back of this Bangladesh trip she took. So, stuttered three words sentences were the only things my foggy brain could muster.

The waitress came with our hot chocolates, interrupting our (almost) one-sided conversation.

- _Enjoy you drinks !_

Do waitresses always have to be that smiley ? I thought. I inwardly sighed in relief. If I was asking myself some weird and totally useless questions, that meant my mind was back.

- _Well Pamela_, he carried on, sipping his beverage, _what type of music are you into ?_

Diary I discussed with my cognitive psychology teacher for two hours. Two whole hours. Now I know that Raymond Jacobs is 29 (30 on the 23rd of September); he hates mushrooms; he often comes to the Norma Jean (Alone Diary) because he likes that 50's atmosphere and his favourite colour is green and many other things that I won't write because it could take all day long and I still have work to do.

And oh ! Guess what ? I've got another date with him next week, same day, same hour, same place. Sweet cherry cakes, my life is beautiful.

* * *

_Sunday, March, 11__TH__, 2.42 P.M._

Sam was a little bit taken aback by what she'd just read. Her mother, Pamela Puckett had met one of her teacher in a café and she would see him the next week ?!

Isn't there a rule about students not dating teachers ? In TV shows and movies, when the heroine dates her teacher, things go wrong (and end well of course). But this wasn't fiction, it was reality and reality hurts, reality sucks.

Pamela and Mr. Jacob weren't dating but their relationship was now beyond any "normal" student/teacher relationship. To sum up, Sam had a really bad feeling about this.

_What did you get yourself into Mom ?_

* * *

_Sunday, March, 11__TH__, 8.10 P.M._

Sam was eating dinner in the kitchen, by herself, as usual. The kitchen was silent, apart from the noises of Sam eating : the scraping of the fork against the plate, the light thuds of Sam's teeth chewing the food, the deep but discrete noise of Sam swallowing. This strange yet heady ritornello wasn't loud enough to stop Sam from tormenting herself about this whole "date" thing.

She kept reminding herself that is was the past; whatever path her mom chose, what was done was done. Little did she know how right she was : what was done was done; no coming back was allowed.

* * *

_Monday, March, 12__TH__, 7.50 A.M._

Sam was at her locker, picking her book for her first period.

_Monday mornings suck_.

This one sucked even more because this Rayela thing –or Pamond ?- well, this thing between her mom and her teacher was still bothering her, although she put it in a little corner of her mind. Plus, she…might want to avoid her best friend (the female on, not the one she had a crush on). And to complete it, her first period was politics.

Uugh.

Don't misunderstand her though, Sam liked school. No your brains did not turn into eucalyptus, you read right, Samantha Carter Puckett liked school. Come on, you were there when Sam rummaged through her mom's stuff to research information about Freud ?! She actually searched and worked for that essay. Yes, Samantha Carter Puckett did liked school, she just didn't want people to know it.

Hence the (too) numerous hours of detention.

The bell rang.

_Come on Samantha, go to class. 50 minutes of politics can't kill you right ?_

* * *

_Monday, March, 12__TH__, 12.10 P.M._

She hopefully survived politics. And (secretly) enjoyed maths, English and French.

But now was the time for what Sam enjoyed the most in school :

Lunch time.

She made her way to the canteen and sat their usual table, the persons hiding behind the possessive adjective being Sam, Carly, Freddy and Gibby. (Yes, Gibby).

When Gibby joined Sam, the latter gave him the meanest look she could and then returned to eat her bacon sandwich. Gibby sighed and began to eat as well. Sam began to think about the fight that she had with Gibby…

But Carly and Freddie are currently talking so I'll finish this story later.

- …took Spanish. Freddie could you help me with that ?

- Sure honey.

- Hi Carly, yo Frunepop ! greeted Sam.

As usual, Carly would smile, Freddie would roll his eyes and Carly would caress Freddie's cheek in a "Deal-with-it-honey-I-love-you-anyway" fashion.

_Do not puke Samantha, do not puke Samantha, do not puke Samantha…_

- Where were you this morning Carly ? I didn't see you around your locker.

She had enjoyed the fact that her best friend whom she wanted to avoid didn't show up this morning, because that meant that she didn't have to make up (lame) excuses to run away from her. But Carly was kind of a… egghead (_I love you nonetheless Carlotta_) and her nosy self wanted to know why Carly was late.

And Carly blushed.

No, let's be honest, Carly reddened. Her face suddenly became redder than blood (and that's tough, considering that was her own blood which was coloring her cheeks). And her forehead. And her ears. And her nose. Even her lips). Well, Carly suddenly turned into a (wo)man-sized tomato.

And Freddie blushed.

_Jeoldae mal hajima jamkkanman swit ! Ajig nareul johahaji anheul sudo itjana_.

The lovely couple had blushed.

Their lateness was seemingly due to Happy-Couple-y activities. Holy Aphrodite of all the heated smooches. They were late because they were making out.

_Do not puke Samantha, do not puke Samantha, do not puke._

* * *

_Monday, March 12__TH__, 2.15 P.M._

- Valérie, collect the essays please.

The person by the name of Valérie did so, and the teacher retrieved them.

- We are going to talk about Épicure conception's of happiness today.

But as the teacher began her talk, Sam wondered about what made her happy. Almost automatically, her mind wandered in cotton-candy paradise…

* * *

_- Freddie, why do you keep doing that ?_

_She was referring to Freddie burying is head into Samantha's chest. He kissed her bosom and deeply inhaled._

_- It's warm in here. And it smells like you. And a little bit like me. So it smells like us, he whispered, his voice muffled._

_She closed her eyes and smiled in response, Freddie still kissing her chest. He lifted his head to kiss her (always) swollen lips and repeated :_

_- It's warm in here. _Kiss._ And it smells like you. _Kiss_. And a little bit like me. _Kiss_. So it smells like us. _Kiss_._

_But he added :_

_- And I can hear you heartbeat._

This sudden revelation strangely coincided with the teacher's statement :

- For Epicure, happiness ensues from the lack of pain; physical and mental ones.

* * *

Let me know what you think ?


	4. Orenthal

**Chapter 4 : Orenthal.**

_Monday, March, 12__TH__, 9.02 P.M._

The clasp of one of her earrings was under her bed.

No need to panic, it surely happened to a lot of people before her and would probably happen to a lot of people after her.

So she lied parallel to her bed to get it.

Which was the most evident to do after such event.

And she grabbed the clasp.

She is a primate –her hand is prehensile- so no big deal here.

And she saw the bottle.

Problem.

Because that bottle was her way to happiness –according to Epicure- .

But it brought back too painful memories.

The flashback that was slowly coming to her (she could practically hear the harp and see the world waving) was interrupted by technology.

Her phone buzzed.

_**From : Gibby**_

Hello Samantha. I figured you would need someone to talk to after what happened at lunch. I know you are still mad at me, and I'm asking for your forgiveness because I was meddling into your business.

Orenthal.

(Yes, Gibby's texts do look like 19Th century letters.)

Sam immediately typed her answer.

_**To : Gibby**_

Hello Orenthal. How thoughtful of you, thank you. I'm good. They are a couple. Couples…make out.

_**From : Gibby**_

They do. See you Samantha.

_**To : Gibby**_

See you Orenthal.

That –awkward ?- moment when the reader discovers that Gibby knows about Sam's little secret.

Yes, Gibby knows Sam is crushing on Freddie. And since the writer hide enough things from you (What is that bottle ? What are those memories ? What will happen between Pamela and Raymond ?), the writer is going to tell you why Sam&Gibby's relationship was momentarily strained.

Gibby thought Sam should tell Freddie about her little… secret. (The secret being that she had a crush on him).

Sam told him she didn't want to; and Gibby threatened to spill the beans to Freddie. And Gibby finally realized he was meddling.

What ?! That's it ?! –Yes, I can practically hear you inwardly scream from here-. That was why Sam&Gibby relationship was momentarily strained ?!

Yes, yes it was.

* * *

_Samantha felt a pair of soft lips kissing her neck, which first startled then made her smile. _

_- What are you doing ?_

_Her cotton-candy must have sugar problems, because they were in the kitchen, which was odd because Samantha & Freddie always were in the King-Size-Bed-Fancy-Hotel-Room-With-White-Sheets-And-The-Warm-Rays-Of-Sunshine-Which-Were-Spreading-Its-Warm-Through-The-Semi-Closed-Shutters. Also known as the KSBFHRWWSATWROSWWSIWTTSCS._

_Anyway, Samantha was currently cooking._

_- I'm making choonchooyo. Or chounchouyo. Nevermind. I believe it's a Colombian dish._

_A very loud noise made the couple jump._

_- What was that ? enquired Freddie, now very calm, like he knew nothing wrong could happen to him._

_- I believe this was the fourth wall breaking, casually answered Sam._

* * *

**Monday, January 31****th ****1994.**

Hello Diary.

Meryl and Edward are (finally) dating. Edward properly asked her out yesterday. I'm so happy for them; they've been chasing each other for too long.

I think I'll avoid Mr. Jacobs this week. Well, not avoid but stop asking for precisions about his lectures. Our date is at the end of the week and I don't want him to become bored of me. What if we had already talked about everything and things would be awkward Saturday because we don't know what to talk about ?

This time, picture the baby ostrich getting lost in a mall while being chased by rhinoceros. Because this is exactly how I feel.

* * *

**Saturday, February 5****th**** 1994.**

Chounchouyo ! (or is it chounchooyo ?)

I believe it's a Colombian dish. Anyway, it seemed like the only word that could describe my feelings right now.

I was afraid this date would be a total disaster, but it went well. The afternoon flew by without us not even noticing (well, at least I didn't notice, maybe he was just counting the seconds in his head. But if he had, I'm sure he wouldn't have kissed my cheek before leaving me, right ?)

I'm going to do something not so Pam-like, like rolling myself in my own happiness and enjoy it.

* * *

**Sunday, February 6****th**** , 1994**

Hello there Diary.

Red alert.

I've seen Meryl today, and our friendly banter led us to talk about her relationship with Edward. I mean, Meryl, Edward and I have been hanging out since the two of them became an item, but today we had a little _girl talk _about it. (My first real girl talk about boys if you ask me). Well, for what she told me, the two of them seem very happy together. Bless them.

But being the good friend she is, Meryl asked about my love life.

Seeing the red alert now ?

What was I supposed to tell her ? Be blunt and tell that I've been on two dates with our PSYCHOLOGIE COGNITVE teacher ? I'm not Einstein, but I'm an idiot either, and I believe in most universities, non-scholar student/professor relationships are forbidden. At least, I know they are forbidden in movies. But movies aren't reality, and reality sucks and hurts.

So I went for the safest answer and told Meryl I wasn't seeing anyone.

*Insert a sigh here*

* * *

**Sunday, February 6****th**** 1994, later.**

I forgot to tell you Meryl told me I changed. When I asked _how_ did I changed she told me I was more… _chillax_. When I frowned to show her I had no idea what that meant, she let out a very warm laugh and patted my back while telling that I would still be the _same ol' Pam._

Not really satisfied with that explanation I demanded further details and she told me, I looked like I was enjoying my life, at least more than I was when she first met me. She could apparently see in my face that I was happier now.

So I thanked her for being my friend.

* * *

**Thursday, February 10****th**** 1994**

The F.B.I will come to where I live and arrest me like the criminal I am.

I think you understood Thursdays are one the days I have cognitive psychology lectures. And I don't know if I already told this, but my "_after-lectures_" visits to Raymond Mr. Jacobs are now restricted to the minimum.

That's why it surprised me when he hailed me.

He hailed me.

He shouted my name out loud in order for me to notice him.

And he beckoned me with his hand.

OK, most of the students were out, and we probably were about… 5.

But he publicly acknowledged my existence in front of other students.

Needless to say I was turning into different (about 50 probably) shades of red.

Miss Puckett, I have the references to the books you had asked me about last time.

The journey to his desk felt like a journey to gallows. Why did he had to do this in front of other people? Couldn't he wait until Saturday to talk to me ? Wasn't he seeing that the 4 other students in the room were giving us a very suspicious look ? (Well, Meryl and Edward were talking to each other and the other two were exiting the room, but I could definitely sense the… suspiciouscity towards Raymond and I, I mean, they obviously saw something was going on between the two of us… right ? Or am I paranoid ?)

* * *

**Thursday, February 10****th**** 1994, later.**

I forgot to tell you why Raymond pretended to tell me about book references. He want us to go on a date next Monday. Is it a coincidence if next Monday is Valentine's day ?

But the most important question is : Why did I agree ?

* * *

_Monday, March, 12__TH__, 9.30 P.M._

Sam sighed. She was tired. And angry at the Happy Couple because they were happy. And mad at her philosophy teacher for bringing Épicure's conception of happiness. She just needed… cotton-candy. So she lied in her bed and made herself some.

_- Baby, you got mail, stated Freddie while handing Samantha a few envelopes._

_They still were in the kitchen. What had happened to the KSBFHRWWSATWROSWWSIWTTSCS ? Samantha took nonetheless the mail Freddie was handing her and proceed to read it while her lover was hugging her from behind and laying feather kisses down her neck._

_Bills._

_Advertising._

_Bills._

_Advertising._

_Results of blood test._

_Wait, what ?!_

_What kind of candy world was this ?_

_A strange yet awesome one because Freddie was still working his Benson witchcraft on her neck and his hands were making their way under her shirt. _

_She didn't know why she was receiving blood test results but she had the dreadful feeling that it wasn't good._

_Think Samantha._

_- Freddie, she said, her voice as smooth as velvet, I need to go to the grocery store, we are missing … rice and I want rice. I'll be right back. _

_Rice ? Well, this should do the trick. _

_She freed herself from her lover's embrace, grabbed her purse and quickly stuffed the results in it. She was about to open the front door of their apartment when a force pulled her back against the door._

_- You're not going anywhere, he whispered in her ear, his tone deep and raspy, yet intelligible._

_His mouth returned to her neck, his hands to the back of her thighs; he was now carrying her. He began to walk and sat her on the kitchen counter. His fingers were teasing the clasp of her bra and his breath was creating goose bumps on her chest._

_- Freddie, I…_

- …_am staying here with my hot and awesome boyfriend, he completed._

_His lips were now on hers and she was definitely staying._

_- I still want rice, stated a very naked Samantha under the sheets of a king sized bed. (You know, the sheets of the KSBFHRWWSATWROSWWSIWTTSCS.)_

_- You're still not going anywhere, he replied, as deadpan as her._

_He was suddenly covering her naked body with his own. If iced fire existed, well, that is how Freddie's kisses would fell against her lips. If lead feather weren't a heresy, that's how Freddie's touch would fell against her skin._

_Nope, she still wasn't leaving._

_She eventually left. She remedy to her nudity by putting on Freddie's T-shirt which was lying on the floor__and went to the kitchen stool to read her letter._

_Vomiting; diarrhea; __hepatitis; oedema; rashes; pain._

_What the hell ?_

* * *

**Friday, February 11****th**** 1994.**

Meryl asked me about my plans for Valentine's Day. I tried to avoid the subject by answering : "You know me, I'll probably have a date with my books" before adding a very nervous and fake laugh. And I wasn't totally lying; if I hadn't been invited by my cognitive psychology teacher to a date where policemen and FBI will probably fetch us between the course and desert, I would have had a date with my books.

But she didn't drop the subject and said : "Oh, so you're not planning a secret date with that boyfriend of yours you don't want us to meet, huh ?"

I stopped breathing. Really. I only thought this thing could only happen in movies or books, that this thing was pure fiction. I literally stopped breathing.

I stopped breathing to do it again a few seconds later, when Meryl went into a fit of laughter.

Sometimes, my life is a hell of a rollercoaster.

* * *

**Saturday, February 12****th**** 1994**

J – 2

* * *

**Sunday, February 13****th**** 1994**

J – 1.


	5. Gibbster-The-Love-Master

**Chapter 5 : Gibbster-The-Love-Master**

**Monday, February 14****th**** 1994, after my date.**

Do I look that desperate ? Do people pity me ?

I'm asking you Diary because Meryl and Edward asked me if I wanted to share their Valentine's Day date with them.

Did I pass some kind of point of no return ? I mean Meryl and I spent the last two Valentine's Day together because we both were single. But sharing their date ?

Anyway, I politely declined and went home to prepare myself, physically and mentally. Mostly mentally.

As I told you, the book references of last Thursday were actually a pretext to give me a note with the name of a restaurant, its address, and an hour written on it. I've already seen the restaurant, but never entered it. The only thing that mattered right was that it was a place we wouldn't see any of our acquaintances.

And we didn't see any of them. The dinner went smoothly; no really Diary, it went as well and as not awkward as it could turn with a person like me. (I'm the kind of girl of begins to sweat if she has to take an appointment to the doctor, not because I'm afraid to go to the doctor but because I'm too shy to speak to her secretary).

Do you know how the dinner finished ? He was walking me back to my place (well, he intended to go as far as he could without any other students seeing us, because I live in a dorm) when he spotted a cotton candy salesman. He literally looked like a kid in a front of a candy shop (yes, literally). When we both were diving into the sweet like two kids _in _a candy shop, I asked him about his behavior; I've never seen him like that. He simply answered (now calm and collected again) he loved cotton candy because it was like feeling, smelling and trying to eat a dream. I bit the inside of my cheek to contain my laughter because, come on, how girly and cliché was that ?

He probably saw me because he immediately led the discussion to another topic. But that didn't stop him from kissing the corner of mouth before leaving.

* * *

Sam was about to go further when she noticed the hour : 01.22 A.M.

The humongous yawn that almost broke her jaw convinced her to stop and go to sleep.

* * *

_It was around 7.30 P.M. Samantha was in the living-room of the apartment she shared with Freddie. S__he was currently watching TV, lying on the couch._

_And that's precisely at that moment that he decided to come home after spending the whole day working a very well-paid job in some very-techy company. Sam's face lit up as soon as she heard him and immediately after (too rapidly to be real) she saw him next her, kneeling in front of the couch, his lips touching her own._

_- Hey. _

_Sam could hear his smile, even though her eyes were closed._

_- How was your day ? _

_His voice was as crispy and delicious as milk chocolate with nuts._

_- You know, the usual, cotton-candy like life I live._

- '_Kay, he hummed, his voice now sounding like a very delicate summer breeze._

_Samantha was now just a bundle of (positive) emotions. She lost it when he properly kissed her._

* * *

_Friday, March, 16__TH__, 12.25 P.M_

- We are going to the movies this evening Sam, would you like to come with us ? asked Carly.

"We" referring to the Happy Couple, of course.

- No, thank you, I have… something planned with Gibby.

The chubby boy clearly didn't expect that, but Sam shot him the meanest glare she could manage; so mean it seemed it scream "Play along or I will destroy your organs one by one… with my own teeth". No need to say Gibby was quick to play along.

- Indeed, Sam and I have… something.

- Something ?

Carly's right eyebrow was getting close to Heaven.

- Something, confirmed Sam.

- Alright. I'll see you Saturday then.

- OK.

She got up from their usual lunch table –quickly followed by Freddie- and left.

Sam sighed and hid her head in her folded arms.

_How do you do this ? Your skin always smells like honey, Freddie hummed while inhaling and kissing her shoulder._

- Samantha… started Gibby.

- Do NOT call me Samantha.

- What happened to your neck ?

Gibby was intensly looking at the small amount of skin Sam's position had displayed.

- Nothing.

He was tempted to reply this definitely was nothing but Sam's glare told him not to.

- Sam… I know it's easier said than done, but you have to do something about your… situation.

- And how do I do that, Mister Gibbster-The-Love-Master, spat Sam while lifting her head from its stash.

- Either you confess your undying love for Freddie to the Happy Couple, either you move on.

- Easier said than done, Gibby, easier said than done.

* * *

_Friday, March, 16__TH__, 6.13 P.M._

- Carly ? I thought you were going to the movies with Freddirection ?

- Freddie. I was hoping my best friend would come but she is too busing making up excuses to avoid me.

Carly's voice had the tendency to become higher when she was angry. She was also and angry fast-talker. This combo did NOT sound good on the phone.

- Carlotta, what got your panties in a bunch ?

- Are you kidding ?

Carly's voice was so high right now it _physically_ hurt Sam.

- You've been acting weird for a while, she carried on. You avoid my company and Freddie's ! You are always zoning out ! You are my best friend Sam ! What's going on ?!

_You better come up with something Sam, and fast._

- Do you think I enjoy being the third wheel ?

_Sammy said whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat ?_

- What was that ? Carly echoed.

_Yes Sam enlighten us._

- I don't like being the third wheel. If I avoid your company, it's for avoiding being the third wheel.

- Se-seriously ? Sam, why didn't you say something, I would…

- It's OK, she cut. She didn't want this to turn into a sappy-cheesy-soap-phone call. I didn't mean to be rude to you and Freddie.

- I'm sorry Sam, I didn't realize we were being… We try to keep the PDA's low though… I'm- I'm sorry.

The good part was that Carly's voice was now leaving Sam's hearing system in peace. But now her best friend was feeling guilty. Oh boy…

- Don't be. Let's put that behind us, OK ?

She just wanted this conversation to end.

- Sure.

- I've got to go Carly. I'll see you tomorrow.

- Yeah, see you !

_For the love of sugary pimbees ! What the scrudge ?_

Carly now thought her mood swings was due to her jealousy towards her relationship with Freddie, which wasn't totally untrue. But Carly now thought the problem was resolved, which was totally untrue.

She'll have to play along and seem happy.

She so needed cotton candy right now.

* * *

_- I. _Kiss on the left side of her neck_. Love. _Kiss on the right side of her neck_. You. _Kiss on the lips_. _

_(It seemed that the KSBFHRWWSATWROSWWSIWTTSCS has made its come-back)_

_Kiss that slowly turn into a heated make out session. Make out session that slowly turned into… you know… __**it**__._

_And __**it**__ was amazing. Sam's noises of approval were driving Freddie crazy. Freddie's kisses were driving Sam crazy. __**It **__was pure bliss._

_That felt so cliché. That felt like cotton candy._

* * *

**Tuesday, February, 15****th**** 1994**

Meryl and Edward's date apparently went well. I'm not jealous or anything Diary but it looks like their relationship is a _freakin'_ fairytale. I know they've only been dating for two weeks but they look like these couples you can see on the TV (the happy ones) : I've never seen them fight (and I'm ready to bet 20 $ Edward didn't want to see that "_I-have-no-friends-but-the-quarterback-is-suddenly-head-over-heels-for-me-and-after-one-hour-and-a-half-of-shenanigans-cries-and-life-lessons-we-can-finally-be-happy-together-and-his-ex-the-cheerleader-is-now-my-best-friend-even-though-she's-made-my-life-a-living-hell."_movie) even though they spend most of their time together.

* * *

_Saturday, March, 17__TH __, 2.02 P.M._

_His was tightly hugging her, his right hand mindlessly stroking her back, his head buried in her fruit-smelling shampoo (he believed this is how it worked in movies), his mouth forming a warm smile which was effectively warming up Sam's whole being_.

- Yo !

- Hello, greeted Carly, Freddie, Gibby and Spencer.

- How you doin' bros ?

- What's with the gangsta style ?

- Why not ?

General chuckle.

- Aren't you hot like that Sam ? enquired Carly

- What do you mean ?

- You're wearing a fair share of layers.

Sam shrugged it off and tugged on her sleeves to make sure she wasn't she wasn't showing to much skin.

- Hey Sam, do you want to see my latest invention ? asked Spencer.

- No…

- Great ! Put your pointer finger in this.

**This** being a purple soccer-sized ball with a hole big enough to put a pointer finger in it.

- Spencer…

- Come on, try it !

Sam looked at her friend, and the only thing she saw on their faces was a "The faster you do it, the faster it will be over"-look.

Sighing, she did as told so.

Something was scratching the edge of her finger. It wasn't hurtful, but it wasn't pleasant either. It was… scratchy.

- Cool isn't it ? beamed Spencer

- What exactly does this… thing do ?

- It's finger scratcher !

- A fing… What ?

- Yesterday, I wanted to scratch my finger but it's hard to do so, so I ended up biting it but I bled… So I invented this !

The confusion was making Sam's eyebrows closer.

- Why did you want to scratch your finger ?

- Because I put it in my ear…

Now disgust was making Sam's eyes like saucers.

- M'gonna show this to Soko, my brotha from anotha motha ! See ya monkeys !

- What's with the gangsta style ?

- Why not ?

General laugh.

- Is everything ready for tonight episode of iCarly ? enquired Carly

- My tech stuff is OK.

- My bacon is all good.

- Gibbeeeeeeey !

- Who's up for a Girly Cow marathon ?

General cheers.

Sam discreetly put a mint in her mint in her mouth to hide the taste of her vomit. She catched her reflexion on a mirror hung up on a wall and noticed her foundation made her complexion glow.


	6. Principal Franklin

**Chapter 6 : Principal Franklin.**

_Are you really watching this Sam ? asked a mischievous Freddie_

_Hmm… Wh_y ?

He didn't answer. He didn't have to. His body heat was already enveloping Sam; his lips were everywhere, the TV forgotten.

They ended up watching Girly Cow, as planned. To be honest, only Carly, Freddie and Gibby were watching the TV. Sam was too busy ignoring the Happy Couple who was… happily-coupley watching Girly Cow. Her "ignoring" lasted until she couldn't take it and had to leave.

She left to the bathroom.

She carefully locked the door behind her and sat on the floor, back pressed against the said door.

She wanted to come up with some "kick-ass" resolution and come out of this room full of confidence and take back the control of her life and go to the Groovy Smoothie and run across some cute perfect guy she will date in no time and live happily ever after with.

But the only thing she could come up with right now was "_Get it together Sam."_

The evening was uneventful, at least as uneventful as an evening spent broadcasting an international-viewed web show can be.

And Sam got it together. And she actually enjoyed her evening because whenever Carly and her hosted iCarly, Sam felt like nothing has changed, like she wasn't crushing on Freddie, like Carly wasn't dating him, like Carly and her hadn't grew up apart.

Let's face it, the iCarly hosts were still close, but something had undeniably changed.

_- We should p_robably get out of bed right ?

- We should. It doesn't mean we have to.

* * *

**Wednesday, February, 15****th**** 1994**

Hello Diary.

I need advice. No, that's a lie, if I really wanted advice I'd talk to a real person. I simply need to get this thing out of my head.

What am I doing Diary ? I've been going on dates with my cognitive psychology teacher who is also nine years older than me. What does he want ? What does he see in me ? I mean, I'm not naïve, I've heard some women at the administration talk about him, he could have more matures women. Does he just want… s sex ?

I don't think so, he could have sex with other students/women, more quickly.

Am I a game ? His game ? Does he just want to… _corrupt _the innocent and naïve young student ?

What does he want from me Diary ? What is he after ?

* * *

_Sunday, March 18__th__ 2012, 4.02 P.M_

- Sam ?

- Carlotta ?

The said Carlotta chuckled, knowing she had her best friend's attention, even though it didn't look like it.

Sam was currently spread out in the couch, a pile of bacon near her, enjoying a Girly Cow episode with her best friend at her best friend's place.

- I'm sorry you know… About…This PDA thing…

- Carly, I thought we agreed to leave that behind us.

Sam's voice was definitely bitter now.

_- Yo_ur skin smells like honey…

- Stop it, this paperwork needs to be done.

Her smile, the chuckle in her voice and the way she let him kiss her neck said otherwise

- Yeah, I know but… Look what you're forcing me to do ?!

- Hmm, what paperwork ? This is just stuff about … Muco… Mucomyst, Doc-, what does that even mean ? This sounds very boring Samantha, are you _sure_ you want do to paperwork ?

- What am I forcing you to do ? What the cheese are you talking about Carlotta ?

Sam was definitely not interested in their Girly Cow marathon anymore. She was now sitting up straight, brows furrowed.

- Would you stop calling me Carlotta ?!

The brunette sighed.

- What I mean is… You're my best friend Samantha and…

- Do NOT call me Samantha.

- See ?

The two teenage girls looked at each other scornfully before Carly gave in and sighed, _again_.

- How about you give me fifteen minutes ? And then I'll be all yours…

It sounded like Freddie just _purred_, literally.

- I want you now…

- Freddie…

- Samantha…

She wasn't really sure if the sound that escaped her mouth was a sigh or a moan.

- I worry about you Sam. And I hate having discussions that sounds like teenage movies dialogs and I know you don't either, but is there something I can do for you ? You seem… Jesus, that sounds cliché but you seem lost Sam. Has this PDA thing really perturbed you ? Is it something else ? Because you've been acting weird for a little while…

Carly's fingers were snarled into what seemed a very complicated ideogram. Or maybe it was an origami figure. Does finger origami finger figures even exist ?

- You'll have plenty of time tomorrow for that paperwork…

She didn't know what he had just done to her neck but all thoughts of doing paperwork disappeared from her mind. She turned around and Freddie kissed her and pressed her again a wall she was sure wasn't there a second before and he just kissed her his lips felt and smelt like cotton candy and her shirt was on the ground and how was that possible they didn't even stop kissing.

- Sam ? Are you even listening to me I'm trying to help you here !

Kiss, kiss, kiss, lips on her neck, hands on her back, hands on her cheeks, legs around his waist, teeth on her skin, hands on his shoulders, cotton candy, cotton candy, cotton candy, cotton candy, cotton can…

- Samantha !

- Freddie…

- Freddie's not here Sam.

Carly's voice was as icy as Sam's come back to reality as Sam's voice had been warm when she _moaned_ Freddie's name.

Carly was about to ask explanation but Sam had already ran away. To the bin. And vomited in it.

Icy tone had become again worry tone and angry Carly was now panicking.

- Oh my god Sam, are you okay ? Do you want me to… Oh my god ! I should probably do something, Jesus Christ Sam, what…

- Carly ! Shut up please. It's nothing. It has happened before. It sometimes happens. It's OK. Calm down. Look, it's over. See ? It's nothing. I'm going to use your bathroom so I can clean to freshen up a bit. I'll clean your bin, don't worry.

* * *

**Wednesday, February, 15****th**** 1994, almost Thursday.**

Am I too _"goody-two-shoes" _? I mean, I could stop torturing myself about it, right ? Just enjoy the moment and stop it when I want to. After all, this little game he's (supposedly) playing, needs two players. If I don't agree with… whatever he's trying he trying to make do/say/eat/drink/paint/listen… well you get the point, I can end whatever is going on between the two of us, because I'm a grown girl.

'Night Diary.

* * *

**Thursday, February, 16****th**** 1994**

The book references trick, again. This time, it was his address on the note, along with a day, a month and an hour.

Meryl asked me what it was.

"_It's nothing Meryl"_, I answered with a fake smile for good measure.

What else was I supposed to say ?

* * *

_Monday, March 19__th__ , 10.02 A.M._

- Miss Puckett, in my office, now.

- I didn't…

- I know ! But I want you in my office, now.

That's how Sam ended up in Principal Franklin's office, even though she hadn't done anything to anyone (or anything)(yet).

- What have I done ?

- Nothing Saman…

- Do NOT call me Samantha.

- Is there anything you want me to know Sam ?

- No … ?

_He has no proof I put the colorant in the pasta yesterday, has he ?_

- Your friend Carlotta Shay thinks you do.

- Carly ?

_Getting weirder…_

- Yes, she apparently worries about you.

_She worries about me ? Oh, she wouldn't…_

- She came to my office this morning, claiming you had problems. Do you ?

- No, I'm fine Principal Franklin, there's noth-

Sam had had the lucky reflex to grab the waste-paper basket. But now Principal Franklin was the lucky owner of "_vomitful_" waste-paper basket.

- There's a little bathroom right there, he said, showing a door on the side of his office. You can leave the basket there.

Sam came back a couple of minutes later, a bit ashamed.

- I'm not only talking about problems at school Sam. Is everything OK at home ?

Raising her voice and getting angry wouldn't lead her anywhere with him. She chose the safer option.

- No Principal Franklin, everything is fine.

He was eyeing her suspiciously, like he was trying to read her. He eventually sighed and said :

- If you say so. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.

- Of course Principal Franklin.

_Bla bla bla…_

- You're allowed to go home if you're not feeling well.

Sam frowned.

_What the cheese ?_

- He showed the bathroom door.

- I'm fine thank you.

- Are you sure ? You may be sick, you should go see a doctor.

- Yeah, I'm sure. It's nothing, it'll wear off.

* * *

_Monday, March, 19th 12.07 A.M._

- What is wrong with you ?

- What is wrong with _you _?

They all usually met at the canteen for lunch time, but Sam wanted some explanations, hence the little crowd they were gathering around the locker by their quite loud _chat_, crowd Gibby and Freddie were quick to dismiss, probably hinting at Skidmore and maybe at a double portion of fries for lunch.

- You went to Franklin !

- You won't even talk to your best friend !

- My world doesn't revolve around you Carly.

_Maybe not around you, but around your boyfriend…_

- I know that ! But you've been acting weird lately Sam !

- So ?! You went inform on Franklin !

- That was our only option !

_Our ?_

- Our ? Gibby, Freddie, you're in this too ?

The conspirators looked genuinely _terrified. _

- We care about you Sam… whispered Freddie.

Sam lost it. Carly's Freddie was acting like Samantha's Freddie, her friends were worrying about her and that's exactly what she didn't want because they'll eventually find the truth, the shameful truth : Sam was jealous of two of her best friends and was shamelessly day/bed/night-dreaming about the one she liked. Bacon on top, she has invaded her Mom's privacy by reading her diaries. How was she going to confess something like that ? She couldn't.

- Sorry.

The conspirators looked genuinely confused.

- What ? asked Gibby, or maybe Freddie, or was it Carly ?

Sam didn't care, she was on auto-pilot, that automatic mode you put on when my mind is occupied by something else, when you have a goal and when you want people out of your way.

- You were right. You're my friends, it's your job to worry right ?

_Insert a smile and a chuckle here, Samantha._

Sam smiled and chuckled.

- I recognized I was a little out of it lately and it's because…

_Insert a lie and a shaky voice here, Samantha._

- My mom has been acting worse than usual, and I didn't know what do, and…

_Dramatic pause, perfect._

- She's been sobbing all night, it's been keeping me up, hence the dozing off… I…

_Second dramatic pause, you're on fire Samantha._

- I don't feel very well, I'm heading home.

_Look tired and sick, pass a hand over your eyes._

- Of course Sam, no problem, whispered Carly, or Gibby or was it Freddie ?

_They look relieved. They believe you. Go home now._

- Later guys…

- Take care Sam.

This voice was definitely Freddie's.


	7. The End

**There is the final chapter (a bit late but here nonetheless). Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 7 : The end.**

_Monday, March, 19__th__ 12.25 P.M._

_Take the stairs, go to your room, open the door, kneel besides your bed and fetch the bot…_

Her movements had made one of her mother's diary fell on the floor. And she seriously thought she was in a teen movie. I think we all know this scene when the wind/God/the mysterious force/fate/the plot makes the sheets of a book turn and settles the book the right way.

Well, Sam involuntary made one of her mother's diaries fell and the said book mysteriously settled itself to a page where Sam's name was written.

_What the…_

* * *

**Thursday, August 4****th**** 1994**

It's a plus sign Diary. There are plus signs everywhere. On each stick, there's a plus sign.

I'm plus signed Diary.

I'm pregnant. I'm two weeks pregnant.

* * *

**Thursday, August 4****th**** 1994, a plus sign later.**

I'm keeping it Diary.

* * *

**Friday, August 5****th**** 1994**

He yelled at me. He slapped me. He called me irresponsible. It takes two to tango, right ? I didn't make this baby on my own. So I slapped him back Diary, told him I was going to keep it, well keep him, or her and left. Like that. Because I'm a grown woman.

* * *

**Friday, August 6****th**** 1994**

Meryl lectured me. Edward tried to calm her down. And I just listened, knowing she was right.

Knowing I had been right this entire time. I was just game, Diary. That's what he told me. I just was an entertainment. I had been right this entire time, but it doesn't make it less painful, on the contrary. I had been right and fell for it. I had been right and I fell for _him. _How _cliché_ is that, Diary ?

* * *

**Monday, September 12****th**** 1994**

He left.

"_Mr. Jacobs suddenly left town this summer, he called upon family reasons"_ said the new cognitive psychology teacher.

Was I the _other woman_ ?

* * *

**Saturday, January 7****th**** 1995**

It's a girl. I'm naming her Samantha, so she'll probably shorten it to Sam, and it'll sound badass.

I'm showing, I'm really showing.

Everyone stares at me.

I don't care.

It feels like I don't care about anything.

* * *

**Tuesday, May 23****rd**** 1995**

It's a girl. I named her Samantha.

Her mom's entries were getting shorter, she was now talking (well, writing) like the Pam Sam had always known.

Sam had always wanted to know who her father was, but now that she knew, well, now that she knew he literally _broke _her mom, she wanted nothing to do with him, she despised him, he repelled her, she hated him, he meant nothing to her.

And then Samantha realized her mother wanted her to be tough and lately, she has been anything but tough.

_For Epicure, happiness ensues from the lack of pain; physical and mental ones_

She threw the diary away, grabbed the bottle and drank it before drifting to unconsciousness.

* * *

_My shrink told me to write my feelings down; I don't know if this fucking shit will help but I want the pain to go away._

_Sam killed herself._

_Well, I'm supposed to do this right so I can "exteriorize" my feelings._

_That's why I'm writing down the story of "How-my-best-friend-was-feeling-really-bad-and-how- I-didn't-have-a-fucking-clue-of-what-was-happening"._

_I believe all started to go downhill when I began to date Freddie, two years ago. I think I've always known Sam had feelings for Freddie, and that those feelings were reciprocated; Sam had always been teasing and pranking him and Freddie had always stuck around._

_They probably thought they couldn't be together for whatever reason teenagers can make up in their minds and Freddie started to constantly ask me out about… three years ago I think. Sam pranking got worse, but he stayed our friends._

_And I finally accepted. Freddie is a really cute and nice guy and they apparently weren't decided to… take whatever the next step is, so I said yes. EVEN THOUGH I KNEW MY FRIEND, MY BEST FRIEND, LIKED HIM._

_And I convinced myself I hadn't done anything wrong, and that one of them will eventually come to their senses and confess their undying for each other and bla bla happily ever after._

_I should have seen it, haven't I ? It's even worse, I FUCKING SAW IT AND DID NOTHING ! She fugued twice on her first year of high school, the exact same year Freddie started to ask me out. She had been checked into a hospital twice the next year, and she refused to tell me why. WHAT IS FUCKING WRONG WITH ME ?! WHY DIDN'T I INSIST ?!_

_I noticed how she was always dozing off. How she would sketch smiles, how she would sometimes whisper, almost mouth Freddie's name. I saw it. I saw everything. I saw the rashes on her skin, I saw her vomit, I saw how her eyelids, her fingers and sometimes her entire face inflate. And thought my best friend had problems she didn't want to talk about and that she was taking care of it._

_Because Sam is a tough girl and take care of her problems herself. That's how she's always been._

_I saw it but didn't understand._

_The two hospital admissions ? It was for curing her hepatitis; which helped nothing; she was so depressed; I was shamelessly rubbing my happiness to her face; her despair began to physically manifest; the symptoms kept going : the rashes, the oedema, the vomiting, caused by the ingestion of bleach, paracetamol and pain killers. My best friend tried to kill herself;_

_How do I know my best friend fucking tried to kill herself, got cured and finally succeed ?_

_Her diary._

_Pamela gave me her diary saying "it would help". She gave me her diary, muttering about "Sam finding the truth about her" and got in her car, to go God knows where. It was six months ago and nobody ever saw her again. _

_I should have called her this day; the day she went into Franklin's office._

_By the way, Sam, if you can read this, did you know Franklin's first name was Edward ? You've always wanted to know what is first name was..._

_ I should have called her, or even text her and told her… something. Maybe she wouldn't have done it. Maybe I wouldn't have gone to her place that happy, thinking everything would get back to normal, maybe I wouldn't have seen those police cars and this ambulance, sirens screaming, announcing me in their one way, something was bad._

_Sam died._

_And there's fucking nothing I can do about it._

* * *

__**Thank you to the readers and the suscribers for reading this story.**

**I'm going to add a few precisions about the story though :**

**First : in the 3rd chapter, Sam thinks "**Jeoldae mal hajima jamkkanman swit ! Ajig nareul johahaji anheul sudo itjana.". **Those are the lyrics of a song called Hush by the A Pink (it's KPop, a guilty pleasure) and it means something like : "Don't tell him yet, keep quiet, he may not like me".**

**Second : in the 6th chapter, Freddie alludes to Mucomyst and Docacetyl; they are medicine with acetylcysteine in it; acetylcysteine is the medicine people take when they're on a paracetamol overdose.**


End file.
